


Flavors

by heidiamalia



Series: Moments in the After [2]
Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, and i don't DO fluff, and its probably gonna be considered fluff, once again i'm back on my bullshit, so this is great, throw my whole world out of whack why dont you frank
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 12:57:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16661507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heidiamalia/pseuds/heidiamalia
Summary: They sit across from each other in a booth. They get breakfast.





	Flavors

**Author's Note:**

> hi hello - still have no idea what's happening to me but still glad you stopped by.

They get breakfast.

 

Today they've made their way through Brooklyn, finding a quiet diner with a waitress who kept her face in a People's magazine longer than she stood at their table. Her gum snapped a few times while she rested her hand on the corner of the linoleum, asking “Coffee?”

 

It's always the same booth, but the location within the 5 boroughs varies each time. He orders 3 eggs - however which way - and sourdough toast with bacon. Karen tries everything at least once. “Black, please, ma'am”, Frank says, and his lip turns up when she asks for a flavored decaf.

 

He'd caught her still awake and on the floor of her apartment doing some research for her lawyer boys at the office, relentless in finding answers. Pictures were scattered across the living room, witness statements half tucked into the bottom of couch cushions. She knew he was coming back from a stakeout mission when she heard his set of keys rattle in the door, and he didn't give her much of a chance to say anything when he lifted her from her place by the coffee table and said they were going for food.

 

Their waitress Molly has already filled Frank's mug with a refill when they get their plates - Karen a batch of blueberry pancakes and hash browns, his eggs a soft scramble. She wonders with a squint in her eye what he would order at Penny's. 

 

Karen leans her shoulders back against the booth for a moment and lifts her left leg to settle her sneaker against the seat on his end. The mug in her hands keep her fingers warm and she watches him as he starts to fiddle with the condiment spinner to find his favorite hot sauce. 

 

He uncaps it with a push of his thumb and she feels his other hand drop softly onto the exposed skin on her ankle next to his thigh. Frank starts eating, the clang of his fork heavy against the dish. His fingers dig under her gray joggers to grasp her calf.

 

She guesses it'd be an omelette. Maybe with some steak and peppers. The home fries she liked cooking up doused in ketchup, maybe. 

 

“Those two know you work twice as much as they do?” he asks, irritation dripping as he takes a sip of coffee. “You ever gonna sleep?”

 

Karen drenches her pancakes in heavy Vermont-made syrup and shakes her head. “Nelson, Murdock and  _ Page, _ ” she’s muttering, finally taking a bite. “I can go in whenever, I've got my own things to do, I don't need to be there to turn the coffeemaker on.”

 

His grip on her leg is gentle, dragging fingers as he chuckles, a scoff low in his throat. “Karen, you make terrible coffee,” he admits. She watches him watch her, humor reflected in his eyes over his cup. 

 

Her leg drops from the seat, away from his reach and she shoots forward to steal the bacon off his plate to retaliate. Frank protests with a mumbled  _ hey, _ but doesn't do much else. “You think that too? God -” The bacon crunches, burnt in just the right spots off her tongue, and she leans back against the booth, arms crossed. “No,  _ no _ , you drink my coffee,” Karen starts to say, considering. 

 

He's got his arm up to get Molly's attention for another refill and takes a bite into the toast on his plate. “Yeah, yeah, because you make it.”

 

She hooks her foot around his ankle under the table.  A short smile is creeping at the corner of her mouth. Her head dips, and she takes another blueberry-filled bite, feeling the tip of his boot curl back, pulling her into him again. There's half a second of a thought to throw a stray berry at him to distract him from a blush off her cheeks. 

 

Molly comes back, two separate coffee carafes in each hand. The bright orange one fills Karen's mug, and she quietly lifts it towards her in thanks. Frank gives her a smirking glance, his eyes follow the way she adds a bit of creamer, a sugar packet. 

 

“Stop looking at me like that,” she laughs. “It's 330 in the morning Frank, of course I'm having decaf.”

**Author's Note:**

> come visit me on tumblr.


End file.
